


Outdated Beliefs

by yourmothersmeatloaf



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, M/M, Mistakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourmothersmeatloaf/pseuds/yourmothersmeatloaf
Summary: Iwaizumi struggles to figure out what a soulmate really is and how to relate to them, or if it’s even worth it at all.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Iwaizumi Hajime, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. Drown Me In Your Eyes

Oikawa had always seen things in color. For as long as Iwaizumi knew him, he’d always describe the color of everything to him. Sometimes it was nice, but mostly it was annoying. He wanted to see the colors for himself. Only, he was then eighteen years old, and he still hadn’t seen the colors.

Most of his friends had. Most of his team had. He was the outlier. It wasn’t like he could even  _ lie  _ and say he definitely saw  _ all  _ the colors, every single last one of them. It’d fall apart too easily. So, they teased him. And they teased him a lot.

_ “Iwa-chan, do you think you’ll  _ ever  _ find your soulmate?” _

_ “Iwaizumi! Which one do you want? Blue or red? Oh, right, this one is the red one! I forgot you couldn’t tell!” _

_ “Pass me the purple marker.  _ Purple!  _ Oh, haha, oops.” _

He couldn’t even say they were wrong. It was almost unheard of to turn eighteen and still see in black and white. At some point Iwaizumi reluctantly accepted that it may just not happen for him. He focused instead on volleyball, and on school, and on himself just generally. On being the best version of himself that he could be.

He stood in Seijoh’s gym with Kindaichi, just talking about nothing while they waited for Karasuno to show up for their practice game. They were supposed to be warming up, but Kindaichi was telling him about how  _ beautiful  _ color really is, and how no one can really prepare you for when it happens, so imagine  _ his  _ surprise when last weekend— he couldn’t be bothered.

They were thankfully interrupted by Karasuno entering and yelling their thanks at them. Iwaizumi bowed along with his team, shouting their thanks back.

He looked along their lineup, knowing Kageyama was in there somewhere, when the most peculiar thing happened. He caught a glimpse of… something. Something warm. But it was gone when he looked again. He pursed his lips and turned back to his teammates, finally getting the opportunity to warm up.

They lined up, bowed again, and his vision glitched again. His heart skipped a beat, but he pushed down the hope that raised in him. Glitches happened. It didn’t mean anything.

Their teams took their positions and the whistle blew. Matsu had the first serve, which went to Karasuno’s captain, but the short middle blocker ran in front of him, intercepting his receive. The ball came back Iwaizumi’s way, and he jumped with his teammates to block it and get the point. The set went mostly by with the short guy being a complete fool. He messed up all of his own receives and attacks, as well as those of his teammates. Iwaizumi tsked to himself.

They had set point and they all stood waiting to receive the little guy’s serve. Iwaizumi had his hands on his knees and watched the guy tremble in his boots. It was like he never played a game before. It was kind of pathetic.

The whistle blew and number five immediately threw the ball and hit it. The second that  _ smack  _ hit Iwaizumi’s ears, everything came to life around him. He jumped back a bit and stared around himself. It was so… bright.

He stared forward again and watched the ball smack Kageyama on the head. The second the ball touched the floor, his vision fluttered back to shades. He frowned.

“What the hell?” He muttered.

Kindaichi looked at him and laughed, “Yeah! Wasn’t that hilarious?  _ A-bonk!” _

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as Kindaichi mimed getting hit in the back of the head with a ball. Kageyama was for once the least of his worries. Why did his vision revert? Was it a mistake?

He watched wearily as Kageyama actually got a quick attack in on them using that number five. The next point, as he and Kindaichi jumped to block the short guy, Iwaizumi accidentally caught his eye.

His vision flashed with colors he didn’t have the names to. He heard Kindaichi say something beside him, and those warm,  _ warm  _ eyes moved away from his as he yelled back a response, taking all of the color with him. Iwaizumi lost his footing and fell harshly on the floor. The bald kid scored on them, but Iwaizumi didn’t care. He stared after the impossibly short middle blocker, feeling like he couldn’t go on. 

Then he couldn’t jump as high. He couldn’t block well, and his hits were missing. He was underperforming and he knew he’d hear about it when—

The coach blew the whistle and Iwaizumi flinched internally. He wasn’t about to be honest about what was happening, because he wasn’t even  _ sure  _ what was happening. He thought that if you met your soulmate, the world suddenly became colorful and stayed that way. If that guy  _ was  _ his soulmate— and god, why  _ him?—  _ then why did everything keep going back to normal? He stood and pretended to listen to whatever the coach was saying, nodding along with his teammates when necessary. He walked away from the time out, genuinely shocked he wasn’t reprimanded for his performance.

They continued with the game, Karasuno squabbling at every opportunity, until the bald kid screamed at Kageyama.

“We’re supposed to be fighting the guys in  _ blue! BLUE!” _

He scoffed. As if everyone knew what blue even was. He wanted to make a note to see what color he was wearing next time his colored vision cut in, but also didn’t want to assume it’d happen again. He knew what happened when his hopes got up too high. It was never good.

His frustration grew until Oikawa showed up. He withdrew entirely during the disturbance, barely hearing the yelling and confrontations. He needed answers. He was so confused and he was starting to feel helpless. He started biting his nails as he stared at the ground, everything around him fading away as the only thing that wanted to exist in his brain were those  _ eyes.  _ So warm, and everything behind them, too. The intensity and passion in those eyes. He… wanted to see them again.

He jumped when he saw Oikawa’s hand snapping in front of his face.

“What’s going on with you, Iwa-chan? I saw how badly you’re doing when I was warming up!”

Iwaizumi shoved his hand away and scowled at him, “I’m fine, asshole. Worry about yourself. We’re about to lose the third set because of you!”

“You’re about to lose the third set because  _ you’re  _ distracted!” Oikawa  _ smiled  _ at him. Iwaizumi wanted to punch him, no matter how true it was. “Just admit you can’t live without me!”

Iwaizumi barked a laugh, “Yeah, right, Shittykawa! In your dreams.”

“It’s okay,” Oikawa moved to his place to serve. “I’ll know everything I need to when your performance improves now that I’m here.”

“Whatever,” Iwaizumi huffed, lowering back into his defensive position.

Oikawa got a good amount of service aces in before the small number five started challenging him directly. 

“Send one to me, Great King! I’ll get it!”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes at him, feeling dizzy and out of place. Maybe it wasn’t him at all. Maybe it was someone else on their team. Maybe… maybe it wasn’t any of them.

His eyes grazed over the other boys. Why’d it have to be a boy? He wasn’t necessarily against the idea, but he thought girls were much prettier than boys. He watched as Oikawa served and four eyes actually got it. Oikawa commented on the chance ball and Iwaizumi’s body finally moved into action. He ran to block number five, but the second he got there, the little guy darted to the other side of the court. Iwaizumi gasped and watched after him, trying to keep up. Before he could get there, the ball was already in his hand.

_ Thwack. _

He watched it spin—the tricolored ball— and fly past Oikawa, shaking his hair—deep and rich—and shirt—so,  _ that’s  _ what blue is— then crash into the floor— warm and glossy. Iwaizumi gasped again, slowly turning to look back at number five. He stared Oikawa down, his eyes serious and intense, dripping with competition.

Iwaizumi recalled Kindaichi referring to him as carrot top, so he looked at his hair. Orange. That’s what orange looked like. He couldn’t stifle the laugh that escaped his throat. Oikawa moved beside him, wearing his own smile. Iwaizumi caught his eye and lost his breath when he saw the  _ depth  _ of their color. He never knew Oikawa had such beautiful eyes.

His friend slapped him on the back with a laugh, then went to antagonize Kageyama. Iwaizumi looked back at number five, who was talking with his captain and the bald kid. He strained to hear what they were saying.

“I don’t want to see you two fighting with each other on the court again, okay?” The captain said.

“I know, I know,  _ fight the guys in blue,”  _ number five deflated, gesturing vaguely to Seijoh.

Iwaizumi looked back down at his shirt, which went from a bright color that hurt his eyes to a light grey. There it went again.  _ Why? _

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Karasuno thanked them for the game, a gesture which they returned, then they were gone. Iwaizumi rubbed his face roughly with his hands before excusing himself.

He sulked through the hall, disappointment consuming him every time he looked at anything he knew had to actually be colorful. He didn’t know why it was bothering him so much. It was probably just that he spent so much time accepting it’d never happen for him, only to have it be teased in front of his face. He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect himself. He wanted to feel normal, if nothing else.

He opened his eyes when he felt something hit his foot. He bent down and picked up a water bottle that rolled over to him, then frowned at it.

“What the—“

“Sorry!” Number five jogged over to him. “I dropped that!”

Iwaizumi held it out to him silently. When he grabbed it, he fully expected everything to transform to color again, for fireworks to explode and his spine to shiver when their fingers grazed each other— but nothing happened. Nothing at all. Defeat bit Iwaizumi’s soul hard. It didn’t matter.

“Thank you!”

Iwaizumi watched him bounce back to where Kageyama just returned from the bathroom. The setter said something to him, which was poorly received. But then the short guy turned back around and called out to Iwaizumi.

“You were awesome! I can’t wait to beat you!”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said. “Good luck with that.”

“Don’t need it!” Number five laughed. “You’ll see! I’ll make your whole world blue!”

“Stop making promises you can’t keep,” Kageyama hit him on the head. “Get good  _ then  _ run your mouth.”

Iwaizumi watched them fight as they left. He already knew what blue was. It wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t. He sighed heavily and went into the bathroom, ignoring Kindaichi and scrubbed his face.

After they cleaned up the gym, Iwaizumi was silent the entire time, and then he went home. He lived with his grandmother because his parents were human trash, but he  _ loved  _ his grandmother. He unlocked the door and went inside, relishing the smell of laundry and perfume. She sat in the living room, feet reclined, blanket over her, and knitting project in her hands. An old sitcom reran on the television at a quiet volume. He smiled warmly at her before moving to the kitchen to make them some tea. He made hers with two sugars, just how she liked, before serving it to her. He knelt on the floor by the coffee table and stared into his cup.

“Baa Baa?”

She looked at him, “Yes, Hajime?”

“Can I ask you about something silly?”

“You can ask me anything, baby. You know that.”

He smiled and looked back into his tea, “How do you know if you met your soulmate? I mean, I know there’s colors and everything, but… Is there anything more than that?”

She watched him knowingly as he swirled his tea around in his cup, before sitting up more fully.

“There  _ are  _ colors, but there’s more than that. You’re right. Did you know there’s more than one kind of soulmate?”

He looked up at her, allowing himself to be entirely vulnerable in her presence.

“There are?”

“Yes. There’s the soulmate in the romantic, cosmic sense, which is when all the colors happen. But there’s also soulmates in the platonic, familial sense. The colors show you the person your soul goes to life after life, the universe always pushing you two together somehow, but more than that is this other soulmate. They say it’s your guardian angel, the person who has been there for you time and time again throughout your many lives.”

“What happens when you meet  _ that  _ soulmate?”

“You just know.”

“You just  _ know?”  _ He frowned. That was an extremely unsatisfactory answer.

“It feels like you’ve known them forever immediately. You spend all your time together without realizing it. You never want to leave each other, and you both have each other’s unwavering support. Every path leads you back to this person. I think you already found that soulmate. Nothing really happens, but some people say they can see things in hues. Just watered down versions of colors, very small amounts.”

“What?”

“I think little Tōru is your familial soulmate. Your guardian angel.”

Iwaizumi’s mind reeled. He supposed they were best friends from the moment they met, neither knowing exactly why. They didn’t even have anything in common in the beginning, but he supposed they were kids and didn’t know much. As much as he was unprepared to hear that, it made sense and it felt  _ right. _

“What about the other soulmate?”

“Is there a reason your asking?”

He looked away and bit his cheek, “I… At practice today we played another team. The colors kept coming but then they’d leave again, just as quickly. I don’t know what that means.”

“You know, Hajime,” she squirmed a bit where she sat. “I never saw the colors.”

His eyes widened as he watched her. She seemed uncomfortable under his honest gaze.

“They say those who marry without the colors, make it harder for their children’s souls to find their mates. Your mother… she never had the colors with your father, either.”

“So, you’re saying I might never be able to see them forever?”

“Maybe not,” she frowned into his shocked face, “I’m sorry.”

He looked down at his tea, resigning to the information. He already accepted that, so why did it hurt?

“But,” she started slowly. “The fact that you’ve seen them  _ at all,  _ that’s promising.”

“I need to be alone,” Iwaizumi said, standing. “Thank you.”

He bowed to her then promptly left the house. He walked around for a bit, not knowing where he was going. He walked for hours, watching the sidewalk in front of him. When he looked up again, he noticed he was in his childhood neighborhood. Where he first met Oikawa. He let his feet go wherever they chose to lead him.

That wound him up deep in the woods behind the homes at the far end of the neighborhood. He climbed over fallen trees and various rock forms before finding whatever his body brought him to. He looked up and smiled at the terrible tree fort he built with Oikawa as children. He forgot all about it. He wanted to climb up into it, but knew it probably wouldn’t have supported his weight.

He looked around himself, visualizing all the games they once played there. They spent  _ so  _ much time outside. Mostly because Iwaizumi couldn’t be home most of the time and Oikawa didn’t want to leave him alone. He heard a branch snap behind him and turned quickly, ready to fight.

Oikawa stood in front of him, staring up at the tree fort with his hands in his pockets. Iwaizumi shook his head before smiling.

“Why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Oikawa laughed, walking fully up to him. “I just had a feeling.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, joining him in looking up. “Me too.”

They stood in silence for a while, just breathing in their joined memories before Iwaizumi looked back to him. Oikawa was already staring at him and Iwaizumi nearly choked when he saw his deep eyes in full color.

Oikawa cocked his head, “What’s with the face, Iwa-chan?”

“It’s nothing,” Iwaizumi said quietly. He forced himself to look away from those eyes.

“You’re acting so weird today,” Oikawa nudged him.

Iwaizumi looked at the leaves on the floor of the small forest. Some of them held vague color. His breath hitched in his throat. He dared to look back at Oikawa.

“Do you believe in soulmates? But not in the normal way?”

Oikawa furrowed his brow, “I don’t know what that means.”

“My grandma told me how there’s such a thing as a soulmate that’s different from the normal one. How there’s one person for everyone that they meet again and again in every life. How every path leads back to them. I…” He stared deeply into Oikawa’s eyes. “I can see your eyes.”

Oikawa pulled back a bit, shock hitting him with the force of a thousand bricks, “You mean you see the color?”

“Not really,” Iwaizumi looked down and kicked the leaves. “I see your eyes and some of these leaves have a tint to them, but. I don’t know what it’s called, but I think you’re my  _ other  _ soulmate.”

Oikawa hummed and looked down at him, “I didn’t need colors to know  _ that,  _ Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi stared at him as he stared anywhere but back.

“I mean,  _ clearly  _ we’re soulmates  _ somehow.  _ Why else would I put up with you?” Oikawa laughed.

“You put up with me? Now,  _ that’s  _ funny.”

Oikawa laughed along with Iwaizumi before wrapping an arm around him, “I love you, Iwa-chan. You’re my best friend.”

“I love you, too, asshole.”

Oikawa’s tone turned serious again as he squeezed his shoulders then released him, “Is that why you were being all weird at practice?”

“Um,” Iwaizumi hesitated, “No.”

“Come on, then!” Oikawa shoved him by the shoulder, “Tell your  _ other  _ soulmate about it! I’m your guardian angel! Tell me everything!”

“I already regret telling you that,” Iwaizumi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I kept seeing the colors. All of them, fully. But then they’d go away.”

“They’d go away?”

“Yeah.”

“You know,” Oikawa sighed as he sat on a fallen tree. “I have something I haven’t been telling you.”

Iwaizumi frowned and sat where Oikawa patted beside him.

“I saw in color from a very early age, right?”

“For as long as I’ve known you,” Iwaizumi agreed.

“Yeah,” Oikawa seemed uncharacteristically shy. “I saw them for the first time when I met you.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened and he floundered for a bit before he got something coherent out,  _ “Me?” _

“You,” Oikawa nodded. “That lasted maybe all of seven months. Then, everything became greyscale again. Slowly, the color came back, but like you said… only in tints.”

They sat in silence for a long time.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” Oikawa smiled at him. “It’s weird for me to think about, too.”

“So, you only see things in tints?”

“Well, actually, I saw things in color again for a bit in middle school.”

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows, “Oh?”

“This is where it gets  _ really  _ embarrassing. It was when I saw Kageyama. Which didn’t make sense! I hated him immediately!”

“Yeah, you really did,” Iwaizumi frowned as he recalled having to stop Oikawa from hitting the guy, panic attack or not, that was bad.

“I rejected the premise of him ever being my  _ soulmate.  _ I rejected it internally, externally, and with passion. Then, the colors went away again. Except your eyes. I’ve always been able to see your eyes. They’re the greenest, most amazing things I’ve ever seen.”

Iwaizumi smiled at him, knowing exactly how he felt. He felt that when he looked into Oikawa’s eyes, even if he didn’t know what the color was called.

“The point of me telling you all of this,” Oikawa looked away, back to the tree fort, “Is that I don’t think it’s a perfect system. I don’t think it’s meant to tell you who you’re supposed to be with forever. I think it’s more of a…  _ it’s possible for this to be amazing,  _ kind of thing. You know, if you put the work in. I think it’s a guideline, not an all knowing, omnipiscent, fact.”

Iwaizumi looked back at him, “Then what’s the point?”

“What do you mean?” Oikawa asked.

“I mean, if there’s no real truth to it, then why is it something that happens?”

“There  _ is  _ truth to it. I think we just need to use our free will still when choosing our relationships. Like with us, when we completely drop our autonomy, and allow ourselves to go whichever way the wind blows, we always end up right here. Beside each other. And it works, because we  _ like  _ each other and we’re  _ good  _ for each other. It wasn’t like that with Kageyama. I knew that. If I gave up my free will in the situation, we’d probably be in a pretty abusive, unhappy relationship.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Iwaizumi frowned.

“I think you’re missing the beauty in it. You can be with someone the universe and your past lives tell you that you should be with, and live every day basked in the glory and beauty of color. Or, you can allow your heart the freedom to choose for itself, and live in a black and white world, but still have that genuine, warm, accepting love that you may not have otherwise.”

“Basically, you’re saying there’s something to be said for rejecting the color if the love you feel is strong enough.”

“Pretty much. I think it’s incredibly romantic,” Oikawa smiled. “I don’t believe in the colors.”

“I do,” Iwaizumi smiled at the tint in the leaves. “I think if there’s someone my soul keeps going back to, there must be a reason. It’s also unlucky to ignore them and marry without them.”

“Maybe,” Oikawa shrugged. “I just think it’s an outdated belief.”

“You might change your mind when you see them again.”

“You might change yours when they don’t come back.”

Iwaizumi hummed and they looked up to their tree fort. They sighed in unison, before standing.

“Wanna come have dinner?” Oikawa asked. “You’re all the way out here, anyways.”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi smiled, taking his outstretched hand.

They walked in silence back to Oikawa’s house.

Iwaizumi spent the next few months mostly forgetting about his incident with Karasuno’s number five. He hadn’t seen the colors again since and found it best to pretend he never had. He still melted every time Oikawa would meet his eyes and he could see that rich brown. He knew that color now, and he knew it well. He always met the gaze steadily, wanting to see the depth of them, always thinking of the earth. They were stable and supported him. He was in  _ love  _ with them.

They were at the Interhigh Prelims. They were in their last set of the second game when Kindaichi scored the last point. Straight sets. Iwaizumi felt gazes on him, but they felt different from the normal feeling of people watching him play. He paid a quick glance to the stands while he stretched his sore arms— being the ace took a lot out of him— and saw Karasuno watching them intently.

He blinked as he took in orange hair and amber eyes. The color grew so intense around him, squeezing his soul and heart until it failed to beat. He grabbed Oikawa by the back of the shirt.

The setter turned to look at him and took in his overwhelmed appearance before wrapping an arm around him and dragging him forward.

“You control the colors. They don’t control you,” Oikawa said lowly so only he could hear.

“I  _ told  _ you, it doesn’t work like that,  _ Shittykawa,”  _ Iwaizumi muttered. 

“I told them to fuck off and they went,” Oikawa shrugged.

“Maybe they made a mistake,” Iwaizumi strained. “I don’t want them to go away.”

Oikawa removed his arm and threw his hands up in defeat, “Fine! If you want to suffer, then I wish you the best of luck!”

“Why are you being like that?” Iwaizumi crossed his arms. “It’s like you’re jealous or something.”

“No!” Oikawa turned and pointed at him, drawing the attention of the rest of their team. “You’re being  _ stupid,  _ Iwa-chan. Okay? This will do nothing but hurt you, and that’s a promise. But you don’t want to listen, which is  _ fine—  _ it’s your life. I don’t want to watch it, though.”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes at him, unsure what to say. It wasn’t normal for Oikawa to be so forwardly mean. Normally, he hid his meanness behind  _ some  _ level of cover. He watched his friend scoff at him, then fully leave the gym. Iwaizumi covered his face and sighed. When he opened his eyes again, it was all black and white. Not even a tint of color anywhere. He felt sick. His stomach churned as he looked around everywhere, looking for any kind of color in anything, but he couldn’t find any. What did that mean?

He got to the change room, and Oikawa left immediately. He scoffed after him and began changing when  _ Kunimi  _ started talking to him, of all people.

“Hey, can you pass me those shoes?”

“Which ones?”

“The red ones.”

Iwaizumi nodded and picked up the shoes, handing them to Kunimi, who accepted them with a smirk.

“Do your colors keep going away?”

_ “What?”  _ Iwaizumi recoiled.

“Do they?”

Iwaizumi gripped his shirt tightly in his hands, glaring down at it, “Yes.”

“That’s normal, I think.” Iwaizumi looked at him. “I mean, for me with Kindaichi, it still happens sometimes.”

_ “Kindaichi?”  _ Iwaizumi asked, voice getting high. Kunimi just met his  _ mutual  _ soulmate not long before, but they were already committed.

Kunimi nodded solemnly, “Yeah. It really sucks. I think it happens when you doubt it. Like, I wasn’t prepared to accept  _ Kindaichi  _ as my soulmate, so the universe wasn’t ready to accept me as a recipient for a soulmate at all.”

Iwaizumi just frowned at him so he continued, “I don’t think you meet your  _ real  _ soulmate until you fully believe in the process. I think it’s a defective system unless you surrender yourself completely to it, and that’s why there’s bad relationships out there still. That’s just my opinion, though.”

Kunimi grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder before half heartedly waving to Iwaizumi as he walked away. Iwaizumi watched him go the entire way, even after the door slammed behind him and he was long gone. He scoffed and smiled down at his shirt, finally changing. He liked Kunimi’s explanation much better than Oikawa’s. Maybe it was worth a shot.

He spent the night on the internet, reading about soulmates and colors. All the different types— which was way more than he thought possible— and how that affected someone. He read theories on how it worked and what threw a wrench in the system. He even read on how to accept the idea fully, regardless of what the universe threw at him. The most interesting thing he found was the breakdown of the different types of soulmates.

There were the familial/guardian angels— where you started seeing in hues. This bond is unbreakable and rarely ever wrong. There were the romantic soulmates— where you began seeing in full blown color. These soulmates were inconsistent and more based on the emotions of your current life, rather than taking into account all of your soul’s history. Then his personal favorite: The romantic/familial soulmate— where you could hear them when they sang. These soulmates were the one true love of your soul. These connections rarely happened, and he couldn’t find much information on them despite how hard he tried. He thought the idea of hearing your one true love, throughout all of time and history, at their happiest, lowest and most vulnerable moments was the sweetest thing he ever heard.

He wanted to meet his soulmate. It was possible for him and he wanted it. He didn’t want to be like his parents, and dammit, he  _ wanted to love someone.  _ But not just anyone,  _ the  _ one. He wanted to meet the person his past lives made such a big deal over, who they loved  _ so  _ much, that they couldn’t get enough to the point that they wanted them again in every other life, too. That person was bound to be pretty special. 

The next day, Oikawa operated as though nothing happened between them at all the day before. Iwaizumi was unimpressed by his lack of accountability, but didn’t say so. He was still pretty angry with him. He cringed away from his touch and refused to look into his face, lest he found he couldn’t see the deep earth in his eyes anymore. The rest of the color still hadn’t returned, but he was determined to change that. He decided the night before that all of his moments seeing in color did, in fact, occur when the little middle blocker from Karasuno did things that struck a chord in him. He was going to pursue it. 

They stepped onto the court to warm up before their game. He was running up to spike a ball Oikawa set for him when it happened. He hit the ball, and he heard  _ singing.  _ Singing? That was new. He faltered and just grazed the ball with the tips of his fingers. It spun and landed weakly just on the other side of the net.

“What the  _ hell  _ was that, Iwa-chan?”

He looked over at Oikawa, who boasted full color while the singing circled in the back of his brain. He was going  _ crazy. _

His chest heaved as he attempted to fill his lungs with air, staring at his  _ beautiful, beautiful,  _ complete asshole, wasteland of a best friend. Those damned  _ eyes  _ bored into him while the beautiful melody of that song ate holes into his brain. He looked around and tugged at his hair.

“What’s going on?” Oikawa ran up to him and put his hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at him, eyes wider than ever, the room pulsing with bright color.

“Do you hear it?”

“Hear  _ what?  _ Are you okay? Seriously?”

“I’m going crazy, Oikawa.”

“Okay,  _ now  _ I know something’s really wrong,” Oikawa frowned deeply. “You didn’t insult me just now.”

Iwaizumi squeezed his eyes shut, his senses entirely overwhelmed. He didn’t know what was happening. But then, the song stopped. The whistle blew, and they had to get off the court. Karasuno’s turn was there. 

They stepped away and Iwaizumi sat heavily on the bench, head in hands.

“Tell me what you meant,” Oikawa said. “When you said ‘do you hear it’.”

“I heard… music. In my head.”

“Music?”

“Someone singing.”

“What? Really?” Kindaichi shouted, nearly giving Iwaizumi a heart attack.

“Yes,  _ really,”  _ he hissed.

“That’s so cool!” Kindaichi clapped. “Most people don’t get that!”

“Get  _ what?”  _

“That’s your soulmate! It’s not that common, but sometimes when the connection is  _ strong _ you can hear when they sing. I wish!  _ My  _ soulmate has the most beautiful voice you’ll ever hear!”

Right.  _ Right.  _ How did he forget so soon? His heart both swelled and clenched, his emotions frenzied, and he didn’t know what to think. He did know that he thought Kindaichi was  _ wrong— his  _ soulmate had the most beautiful voice.

Kunimi frowned and wandered away from the conversation, but they were too busy fawning over Iwaizumi to care much.

Oikawa frowned between them, “You don’t  _ really  _ believe that, do you, Iwa-chan?”

“Of course I do,” Iwaizumi rubbed his face. “It explains it.”

“You  _ finally  _ found your soulmate!” Kindaichi laughed. “Congrats, buddy!”

Iwaizumi and Oikawa both rolled their eyes. Kindaichi looked around.

“Who is it?”

Oikawa actually seemed to perk up at that, interested to know the answer. Iwaizumi sighed heavily and resigned to his fate. If he was committing, he needed to commit. He raised a shaky hand and pointed to Karasuno’s— then— number ten. His teammates followed his trajectory and gasped all together.

“What?  _ Karasuno?”  _ Kindaichi gaped at him.

“It’s not like I control it!”

Oikawa laughed, hollow and bleak, before patting Iwaizumi on the head, “Good luck with that, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi scowled up at him, “Thanks,  _ friend.” _

The whistle blew again, signifying the end of their warm up and the teams needed to line up to begin the game. They moved to the court before Oikawa stopped and addressed them.

“I’m counting on you, fellas. Don’t let me down! I trust you, and…” He pointed directly at Iwaizumi, “Get a grip. You’re the ace, act like it!”

They all nodded, “Sir!”

Iwaizumi watched Karasuno slump down in defeat after just barely losing to them. Iwaizumi had a hard time keeping up during the game due to the on and off nature of his color vision. He couldn’t help but wonder if the voice he heard was  _ really  _ that little ginger. He also wondered if he could hear him, too. He must’ve stared for a moment too long, because all of the sudden those amber eyes raked up him and tore his soul a new one. The anger and humiliation in those eyes were enough to make him weak in the knees. He didn’t look away. He couldn't.

He stared until the universe cruelly dragged the stars and moon away from his vision in the form of Karasuno’s number ten walking out of the gym. He stared at the door where he left, blazing a trail of stardust and tears behind him. His heart ached. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. That blue door separated him from everything his soul ever waited for, lifetime after lifetime. His eyes darted to the clock. They still had time before they had to play Shiritorizawa. He was going for it.

He threw his water bottle at Kunimi, tore off his shoes, and took off at a sprint to the door. Kindaichi applauded and whooped after him.

“Go get him, Iwaizumi!”

He ran down the halls, searching desperately for the ginger. The colors assaulted his vision and burned his brain, but he pushed on. He found him outside in the grass with Kageyama. He steeled his nerves, fearing rejection, especially  _ public  _ rejection, but good things were worth fighting for.

He approached hesitantly, fully aware of how crazy he must’ve looked, sweating and completely out of breath. He stopped at the edge of the grass where the two players yelled at each other. Once the ginger noticed him, he jumped behind Kageyama.

“What do  _ you  _ want?” He yelled. “I’ll fight you if you want to fight!”

“No,” Iwaizumi held one hand up while clutching his side with the other, panting heavily. “No, I don’t want to fight.”

“Then what  _ do  _ you want, Iwaizumi?” Kageyama asked.

“Can I,” he took a deep breath in, “Can I talk to you?”

“Me?” Kageyama asked. Iwaizumi’s hands fell to his knees and he shook his head before pointing at the middle blocker.

“Uh, okay? What’s, um, up?”

“Can it be private?” Iwaizumi winced, knowing how  _ bad  _ it all looked.

Kageyama eyed them up strangely before reluctantly walking away, leaving the ginger alone on the grass. They stared at each other awkwardly.

“I know this seems insane,” Iwaizumi said, standing straight, finally able to breath mostly right.

“Kinda, I won’t lie to you.”

He held his hand out, “I’m Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Hinata Shōyō,” Hinata shook his hand wearily.

Iwaizumi smiled at him before frowning and dropping the handshake, “This is  _ bad  _ timing, I know what just happened in there… Isn’t good…”

“It’s good for  _ you,”  _ Hinata crossed his arms.

“Well, yeah, but, no, not really.”

Hinata stared at him with a furrowed brow and closed off body language and Iwaizumi sighed, feeling defeated.

“What was that song you were singing earlier?”

“What  _ song?” _

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t sang any songs around you.”

“I know.”

Hinata’s brow furrowed deeper as he glared at Iwaizumi in confusion. Slowly, though, realization washed over him. His face went lax and his arms fell to his sides. Then he slowly pointed a finger at Iwaizumi.

“It’s you?  _ You’re  _ the one who sings  _ It’s Alright, It’s Okay  _ by  _ Ashley Tisdale  _ like, twice a month?”

Iwaizumi’s face flushed hard, “My friend gets broken up with that often and we sing it to make him feel better…”

“You’re right,” Hinata sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“I’m right? About what?”

“About it being bad timing.”

Iwaizumi frowned, “What do you mean?”

Hinata stepped forward dangerously, and Iwaizumi took an equal step back. 

“Because, stupid! Firstly, I am  _ so  _ mad at you!”

“What?” Iwaizumi stepped back again in stride with Hinata, “Why? What’d I do?”

Hinata caught up to him and grabbed him by the collar, “Do I  _ seriously  _ need to remind you about what just happened in there?”

Iwaizumi followed to where his finger pointed at the gym, “I—“

“Also,” Hinata pulled him down by his shirt and yelled in his face, “I had to hear  _ way  _ too much  _ Ashley Tisdale!  _ Just as it got out of my head, it was right back in there! Do you know what that  _ does  _ to a person?”

“I didn’t know!” Iwaizumi ripped his hand off his shirt.

“What do you mean  _ you didn’t know?”  _ Hinata demanded, throwing his hands down.

“I haven’t ever heard you until today! I didn’t even know that was a  _ thing!” _

“What are you? Stupid or something?”

They were in each other’s faces, seething. Iwaizumi loomed over him, the seven inch gap in their height boding well for him.

“Besides,” Hinata turned away and folded his arms. “I just started dating Kageyama. I can’t just  _ break up  _ with him because some  _ Ashley Tisdale  _ mega fan decided I was his soulmate!”

Iwaizumi huffed loudly before cradling his face in his hands. He threw his hands down and stated at the top of his lungs, “I. AM. NOT. A. MEGA. FAN.”

The frustration only grew in him when Hinata  _ laughed. _

“And I didn’t  _ decide  _ anything! You think this is what I  _ want?” _

Hinata shrugged, “I don’t really care  _ what  _ you want, to be honest. I may hear your voice, but I saw color when I met Kageyama.”

“Color doesn’t mean much,” Iwaizumi said, calming down.

“Of course it does!” Hinata said, throwing his hands to his hips. “It might mean  _ less,  _ but it doesn’t mean  _ nothing!” _

“So, you’re not even going to consider  _ lifetimes  _ just to appease sixteen years?”

Iwaizumi’s heart bled watching the cosmos drift around behind their amber casings as they drug away from his face in favor of looking anywhere but at him. The knife twisted each time the ginger shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m happy where I am.”

Iwaizumi had visions of constellations exploding and rearranging before him as fate realigned itself. He nodded reluctantly. 

“At least I tried, right?”

“Sure,” Hinata peeked at him, allowing Iwaizumi one last glance into the universe as a whole.

“See you around.”

Iwaizumi fought gravity and forced his socks to scruff along the pavement of the gym’s sidewalk. He forced his way through the doors and halls separating him from the promise of humiliation at the hands of his teammates. He dreaded Oikawa’s eyes. At one point the secure earth, supporting him, but then as deep and as dark as two graves, ready to accept him in and lay him to rest.

So, that was it. Over even faster than it started. A bullet train directly into the side of a mountain. He checked the clock on the wall, and saw he still had time before their next game. He was supposed to be eating, but the thought of food repulsed him. He wandered aimlessly around the building before reluctantly retreating to his team’s change room. He sat heavily on the bench and stared down at his shoeless feet, feeling  _ terrible.  _

He didn’t look up when Oikawa inevitably sat beside him. He couldn’t face those eyes. Those eyes— judge, jury and executioner. No, not yet. He tensed up at the hand on his back.

“Didn’t go how you planned, did it?”

Iwaizumi glared at his feet, then startled as Oikawa threw his shoes at them.

“I brought those. Figured you’d want them.”

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi leaned down to put them back on, Oikawa’s hand never leaving his back.

“Still believe in soulmates?”

Iwaizumi glared even harder at his shoes as he tied them up, “Yes.”

“Why?” Oikawa scoffed. “How many times do you need to be disappointed?”

_ “Why don’t you shut up?”  _ Iwaizumi glared into Oikawa’s face, taking every ounce of courage in him to meet those  _ damned fucking eyes.  _

Only, he wasn’t met with deep and dark graves. He was met with the  _ sun.  _ A bright look of compassion and warmth. Years of secrets and understanding. He sat back, staring deeply into the layers of experiences of hurt and yearning. They lured him in so deeply under their surface that he did nothing when Oikawa’s hand moved to the back of his neck.

He kept on staring into the pools of warmth, of every interaction they had since they were six years old, of every color he’d ever seen in them, while Oikawa pulled him in.

He closed his lids against the blinding view of the sun as Oikawa pressed his lips against his own. The warmth translated into his touch, sending fire everywhere his hands moved on Iwaizumi’s skin. He was ablaze. He moved in closer, urging himself to forget everything he thought he knew— everything he thought he believed in.

He always believed in the moon, the stars, swirling cosmos and interlocking souls, but maybe it was time to believe in the sun and all of its light and heat— the life it gave and the life it maintained. He clung to Oikawa as if he was the only truth left in the universe. 

He grabbed onto the front of his shirt as the kiss took on a new hunger. He leaned harder into Oikawa and pulled him in by the shirt. He felt his hands on his chest. He felt his lips against his own. Then, he felt his face turn wet. Then his lungs burned. Then he felt himself go numb as he fell away from Oikawa’s mouth and into his shoulder.

Sobs racked at him as he clung to his friend. Oikawa held him close and rubbed his back, allowing him to completely unravel. He shushed him and rocked him, unsure what else he could do, but knowing he’d do anything.

When Iwaizumi quieted down, Oikawa tilted his head up by his chin, and looked into his bright eyes. For one of the first times ever, they weren’t a stone wall. They were fully open, allowing Oikawa to look into the deep riches of emerald and crisp bills. They weren’t analyzing him for once. They simply  _ looked.  _ And he never looked more beautiful. His cheeks were flushed and slick with tears, he was entirely vulnerable in the company of his one  _ true  _ friend.

“Did I upset you?”

Iwaizumi shook his head, closing his eyes, cutting off Oikawa’s view into his world. He ran his thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away the sadness with heated touch.

“I don’t believe in soulmates,” Oikawa said. “But I’ll always believe in you.”

Iwaizumi hummed and leaned into his touch, savoring the feeling of his skin against his own. He moved his hand over Oikawa’s and held it against his cheek. His hands were large, bigger than Iwaizumi’s, and held his face perfectly.

“I love you, Iwa-chan.”

“I love you, too. You know that, idiot.”

“I love you in the ‘I want to hold you every night and every morning’ way,” Oikawa said, shying away from the intensity of the green stare once it landed on him. He wouldn’t back down. “In the ‘I want to dance with you at our wedding’ kind of way. The ‘I never want to sing  _ It’s Alright, It’s Okay  _ again’ kind of way.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi’s hand fell from Oikawa’s. “I… Haven’t ever thought about that.”

“It’s okay,” Oikawa surprised him with a  _ genuine  _ smile as he retracted his hands. “This was probably the worst possible time to tell you, but…”

He shrugged. Iwaizumi followed his every movement intently. Oikawa’s skin glowed. His hair bounced slightly each time he moved, the light hitting it in just a way that Iwaizumi could appreciate its subtle red undertones. He watched his thick eyelashes lay against his pale, if a bit red, cheeks each time he blinked. He watched his eyes glow with fiery passion as they slid around, taking in Iwaizumi whole.

“Let’s go, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa stood, stretching a hand out to him. “We have a game to win.”

Iwaizumi slowly reached out and clasped his hand in his own, “Yeah. Right.”

“You better bring it your all, okay?”

“Shut up, Shittykawa, I  _ always  _ bring it my all.”

“Not always!” Oikawa sang back to him as he bounced along to the gym.

“Yes, always,” Iwaizumi mock-sung back to him.

“Whatever,” Oikawa dropped the voice and glanced back at him. “Prove me wrong, then.”

Iwaizumi smirked back at him, “Been doing that all my life.”


	2. Victim of Stockholm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> this contains porn  
> it could be triggering to some. its rough

Defeat ate at Seijoh as they milled around the change room, each of them expressing their disappointment differently. Kunimi sat on the bench, arms crossed, staring forward. Kindaichi screamed at Maki and Matsu. Iwaizumi punched a locker, splitting his knuckles and leaving his mark. Oikawa leaned back on the wall and stared at them, eyes low, with his arms crossed.

When Iwaizumi looked down at his bleeding knuckles, unfeeling and uncaring, Oikawa tsked at him and shook his head, but otherwise said nothing at all. He brushed by him and changed his clothes. When he was done, he threw a hand up at the team as he walked away.

Iwaizumi changed quickly, throwing his things into his bag before shouldering it and running after his friend. He caught up with him outside, just before he got on the bus. He grabbed Oikawa by the back of his collar and pulled him down. His eyes widened as he met Iwaizumi’s steely gaze before rolling them and turning away.

“What?”

“Say something!” Iwaizumi yelled. “Say  _ anything!  _ You’re our captain!”

“What do you want me to say that hasn’t been said before?” Oikawa stared at the ground.

“That isn’t my problem!” Iwaizumi jabbed him in the back. “You wanted the job, you  _ got  _ the job, so  _ do the job!” _

Oikawa’s shoulders shook as he  _ laughed.  _ He ran his hand through his hair before slowly looking at his friend, greeting his cold eyes with dangerous ones.

“Iwa-chan, so demanding. Always, so demanding.”

He patted his friend on the shoulder before Iwaizumi shoved it off of him.

“It’s like you don’t even care!” He ignored the pain in his hand when he pushed Oikawa away.

“Of course I care. Don’t be stupid. It’s just… what else did we reasonably expect?”

Iwaizumi glared into his smiling face, “You’re such a piece of shit. You didn’t even believe we’d win?”

“Obviously I did!” Oikawa shoved him by the shoulder. “Completely, with my entire little heart. Proves me right, though, doesn’t it? Believing gets you burned.”

Iwaizumi took in every micro expression and minute movement the guy made. He watched him  _ very  _ closely. Then, he spoke slowly.

“You said you’ll always believe in me.”

“And I meant it.”

“Really? Because you just contradicted yourself pretty badly.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa turned away. “Well, I’ll never stop believing in you. Even when it breaks me.”

“Why would it break you?”

Oikawa laughed, nothing more than an empty breath, “You’ll see, Iwa-chan. I’m sure.”

He didn’t know what to make of that, so he got back on track, “If you believe in me, then believe in me.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow at him, “I do.”

“Okay, I believe in you. And us. And this team. So, if you believe in  _ me,  _ you’ll believe in all of that, too!”

Oikawa huffed with a smile before slowly approaching Iwaizumi. He ran his hand loosely over Iwaizumi’s even looser shirt along the seam before dipping two fingers into the side of the waistband of his pants and yanking him roughly forward. Iwaizumi stared on in shock as he put his hand over Oikawa’s,prepared to tear it away.

“I don’t take my orders from you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa smirked at his expression.

Iwaizumi’s shock quickly fell into a glare, “Why don’t yo—“

“But,” Oikawa let him go and pushed him away with one finger on his chest. “Okay. I believe in all of that, too.”

Iwaizumi glared after where he got on the bus just as his teammates joined. He reluctantly joined them once the bus’s engine sparked up to life. He sat heavily beside Oikawa who immediately wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close.

“You missed my passionate speech to the team that  _ you  _ demanded,” Oikawa said, pressing his mouth into Iwaizumi’s hair.

Iwaizumi struggled against him for all of five seconds before allowing himself to rest into his side. He sighed, feeling  _ all  _ of the disappointment again of defeat in every important area of his life.

“You can reenact it for me later,” he mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, when we're drunk.”

“I like the way you think, Iwa-chan!”

He stared past Oikawa and out of the window when the music started. He would’ve jumped, but he was too tired. He just listened to the words Hinata sang as he began falling asleep against Oikawa, watching the world move on around him.

_ ‘It feels like I can see the past in your eyes _

_ I know the future has been passing you by _

_ These other boys, they just passing your time _

_ They don't know how to ride the tidal waves that crash in your thighs _

_ But I got the dream, and if you believe, then I can take you somewhere that is pristine _

_ I'm keeping it clean, my title is mean, they boxed in a Simba, we broke out the seams _

_ Don't make me a fiend, I know what I want, I'm working to get everything that I need _

_ But I got a plan for ya, I'm taking a stand for ya, I care for ya’ _

His reality swirled in front of him. He briefly wondered what Hinata was doing, that he was singing that song. He wondered if Hinata remembered that he could hear him. His voice was nothing more than a whisper. He had visions of him lying quietly with Kageyama, close together in bed, Hinata singing quietly to him during their intimate moment. He sighed against Oikawa’s shoulder and closed his eyes, shutting out the physical world.

_ ‘Tell me what you're waiting for _

_ I just wanna love ya _

_ Tell me what you're waiting for _

_ I just wanna hold ya _

_ Tell me what you're waiting for _

_ I just wanna love ya _

_ Just wanna hold ya _

_ Never would lie to you _

_ Tell me what you're waiting for _

_ What you waiting for?’ _

Iwaizumi drifted off to the sweet, soft sound of Hinata’s voice, enveloped tightly in the sun’s warmth grasp.

Oikawa woke him up by pinching his thigh. He immediately shot up and slapped him in the head. Oikawa rubbed where he was hit and smiled sheepishly at him.

“We’re at the school.”

“Awesome,” Iwaizumi scowled.

They got up and disembarked from the bus, clinging to their bags. They walked silently together in the direction of Oikawa’s house. Iwaizumi looked into the darkening sky, appreciating every shade of color mixed together to form the blue to pink gradient. Oikawa ran his hand slowly down Iwaizumi’s back before sliding over to where his hands dug into his pockets. He shook his hand free from both his pocket and Oikawa’s grasp before reclaiming his hand in his own and weaving their fingers together. He never took his eyes away from the sky, watching closely as the blue consumed the rest from the top down.

He recalled Hinata telling him how he’d turn his whole world blue after their practice game. Back then, he didn’t even know what blue was, but now… He almost wished he didn’t. He didn’t know how literally the ginger meant it.

Blue was deep, and it was sad. It was the color of humans, their veins, their tears, their emotion. It was the color of the ocean, taking up most of the world, full of mystery and secrets, the force of it able to take someone under and never give them back up. It was the color of the sky, open and free, giving man the most wild ideas of flight and exploration.

It was the color of his friend. The color of his clothes and the color of his soul. Iwaizumi looked up at Oikawa as he stared ahead, eyes looking ever forward, always at the next goal, the next step. He looked closely into the seams of his person, dripping with pride, ego, and selfishness. But if he looked beyond that, he saw the years of hurt, betrayal and fear. He looked back to the sky and reluctantly settled on the idea that no one was really two dimensional. There were always layers on layers on layers, leaving it nearly impossible to  _ truly  _ understand a person. If there was any person Iwaizumi could understand though, it was Oikawa.

Blue was the most beautiful color. It was the most human color.

So they walked. In silence. With their hands woven together.

They saw his parents weren’t home, unsurprisingly, and the second the door clicked behind Oikawa, he had Iwaizumi’s back against it. He pressed his lips to his and held him tightly by the waist. Iwaizumi slipped his hands over Oikawa’s shoulders, urging the hurt to go away with every touch. He sighed into his mouth and allowed himself to be lifted by his thighs.

Guilt and shame racked at him each time Oikawa’s tongue passed over his own. He gripped onto the reddish-brown hair and tugged at it, his shame shifting into anger. It wasn’t fair. Something twisted painfully in his gut when his friend groaned at the gesture.

His lips moved from his mouth, down his jaw and to his neck. He sucked a very angry mark into the pale, fragile, unmarked and until then, innocent skin of Oikawa’s collarbone. Each noise that fell from Oikawa’s tongue hit his ears, shooting pain, pleasure, shame and pride through his spine. He felt used, but he was using Oikawa, too. They capitalized on each other’s pain to escape the reality of their situations, defying every law of their pure and unbreakable bond appointed to them by the universe and the heavens.

They defied their fates with every lick, touch, bite and grope. Every moan, groan, growl and pant spat in the face of destiny, tainting their souls and poisoning everything they built together for their entire lives. But who were they to deny their hearts what they had for far too long?

They were only human.

Oikawa ran his hands along Iwaizumi’s thighs as he carried the shorter man to his bedroom— the place that’d been a safe space for him for as long as he could remember. He threw him down into the bed they spent so many nights pretending to sleep in before continuing to goof around once his parents left again. The bed they cried in, laughed in, slept in, for many nights— too many to count. Iwaizumi stared at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling as Oikawa showered his abdomen with kisses and licks and nips. He lived both in the past where they were children, jumping and laughing, trying to get those stars to stick and also in the present where his then adult friend licked his way down to his erection before taking it expertly into his mouth.

He sighed deeply as he wove his fingers into his hair, urging him to never stop. He closed his eyes against the glow in the dark stars, shutting out their memories as he took in the new moment they were sharing. Moans tore through his throat as he discovered a whole new set of skills he didn’t know Oikawa possessed, but was both thrilled and honored to find out about first hand. He reluctantly opened his eyes again when Oikawa pulled away, disappointment once again fleshing out Iwaizumi’s person. He sat up when Oikawa pulled away and removed Iwaizumi’s shorts the rest of the way. He watched his friend undress— not for the first time, but for the first time in such an explicitly private and sensual way. His heart burned as the man he grew up with crawled back onto the bed, his eyes for the first time ever opening up to show the full extent of lust and wanton that lived deep within him. He draped himself over his lap, arms stretched above his head, fingers picking at each other, the only sign of his insecurity. He placed his cheek into the mattress, eyes slyly sliding over to watch Iwaizumi’s every reaction with flushed cheeks. His ribs dug into the bed as the soft skin covering the hard muscle that he spent so many devoted hours building up pressed warmly into Iwaizumi’s thighs. He supported himself on his knees, back arched deeply with his ass in the air. Iwaizumi took in the sight delicately and severely. It was not a view he took lightly.

He moved lightly and slowly over the back of Oikawa’s thighs, feeling the trail of goosebumps in his hand’s wake. He hesitated before moving over the skin of his ass, groping lightly before retracting and slapping his hand against him. He started by watching his hand make firm contact with his ass, but quickly moved to the way his hips moved each time he made impact, how his spine went from concave to convex then back, how his face went redder and how his lips parted. The way his teeth held over his tongue, holding back the desperate noises Iwaizumi was sure he had waiting eagerly to spill over his lips so they could tumble clumsily into Iwaizumi’s ears.

Iwaizumi slowly pulled his hand back and dropped a slow glob of his own saliva onto his fingers. He rubbed it along Oikawa, earning him a deep gasp and a panicked look back. He made direct eye contact with him as he slipped his middle finger inside of him. He watched him wreath under his touch. When he thought he was ready, he used his index finger and more spit to fully stretch him out, doing his best to fully hear but also ignore the sounds of his desperation.

Iwaizumi held his palm in front of Oikawa’s face and he spit into it. He used that on his own erection before lining up with Oikawa and pushing in just an inch. He allowed him a moment to adjust before repeating the process until he was fully inside his childhood friend. He breathed heavily before slapping his ass with all of his force, and as an outsider hitter, that was a lot. He relished both the choked gasp that seemed to come unwillingly from Oikawa’s throat and the red glow of his skin that took the form of Iwaizumi’s hand.

He began thrusting, ignoring every cue Oikawa gave him on his pleasure and pain thresholds. He leaned down, pressing his chest into Oikawa’s back and leaned onto an elbow as he fucked twelve years of hurt into him. He fucked twelve years worth of hurtful words and fights into him. He watched Oikawa’s red face as he squeezed his eyes shut and gripped onto the sheets with white knuckles. He used all he had left in him, all his stamina, all his love, all his hate, all his hurt and all of his rejection and fucked Oikawa like he’d never fuck again.

He watched the tears roll down Oikawa’s cheek as he opened his eyes and reached out, long fingers stretching and grasping at the edge of the bed. He watched his mouth open and close to the fullest extent possible as he screamed without sound. He watched him give up and bury his head back into the mattress as his throat tore with a deep groan and a pathetic,  _ pathetic  _ cry.

Iwaizumi hated him. Iwaizumi loved him. He wanted to hurt him. He wanted to make him feel better than he ever had in his life. He wanted to use Oikawa the way he was using him. He wanted him to cry while he felt happier and fuller than he ever had. He didn’t understand how he felt, and he didn’t care. Nothing  _ ever  _ made sense with Oikawa, so he had to stop trying to make it.

His gut twisted in that familiar way that meant the fun was coming to a close. Iwaizumi couldn’t hold back his own noises any long and let them mix in with Oikawa’s pathetic attempts at staying quiet. He reached around his friend and stoked him firmly and quickly and he finished in nearly ten pumps. Iwaizumi didn’t have the reflexes to stop the laugh that escaped him as Oikawa’s fluids rolled down his fingers and dripped onto the bed. The laugh was short lived though and it quickly devolved into an animalistic groan as Oikawa’s muscles spasmed around him in his ecstasy. He used both his free hand and his spoiled one to dig into Oikawa’s hips and hold him still as he used all of his strength to pound into him. As he got closer, he pushed harder to wreck Oikawa as much as he was capable of before he had to stop.

Oikawa caught wind of his groans, moans, growls and renewed efforts to get in as deep and hard as possible. He looked back at him through hooded eyes.

“Don’t—“

_ “Shut up,”  _ Iwaizumi snapped.

Oikawa lowered back down and put his head back on the mattress, pushing back so he wouldn’t be fucked right onto the floor.

Iwaizumi moaned loudly as he unraveled and came deeply inside of Oikawa. He fully rode out his orgasm, hard and loud. Oikawa moaned, too, enjoying the warmth and full sensation of the act. Iwaizumi leaned forward and squeezed Oikawa cheeks together as hard as he could and pulled his face up, placing several open and wet kisses to his mouth. He pulled out, hand on his ass, getting one last whimper from Oikawa. The vibration of it felt like heaven against his lips.

He collapsed on the bed beside Oikawa, who rolled over, and they stared up at the glow in the dark stars as they caught their breaths. Iwaizumi felt him staring at him, so he slowly turned his head over. He took in his red, tear stained face, swollen lips, mussed hair and bruised as all hell neck. He met those eyes, melted chocolate, bubbling champagne, unadulterated love. He sighed and rolled over, one arm supporting him, the other tracing its way across the dark spots across his once untainted skin. He kissed him under each eye before wiping his face dry.

“Thank you,” Oikawa whispered.

Iwaizumi hummed quietly before pulling away again and sitting up, “Shower?”

“Yeah.”

He stood and stretched. He looked down at Oikawa, who raked up his body with his eyes. He saw every ounce of lust, hunger, love and want in them. He felt dirty under the gaze. He looked away.

“Can you walk?”

He heard Oikawa push himself up, “I think so.”

“I didn’t do a good enough job, then,” Iwaizumi muttered, moving to the bathroom off of Oikawa’s room.

His friend laughed, “Ask again tomorrow.”

He started the water, avoiding meeting Oikawa’s eye. They stepped in together, Oikawa taking the first turn under the water, saturating his hair before switching places. Iwaizumi let the hot water soak him as he grabbed the shampoo and put some in his palm. He scrubbed it through Oikawa’s hair, darkened significantly by the water. His friend leaned back into the touch. Iwaizumi then moved onto his body. He grabbed the milky body wash and ran his hands over every inch of Oikawa’s body, washing him clean the best he could of their deep sins.

“I love you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa’s voice was sing-song, happy and totally at peace.

“I don’t love you,” Iwaizumi said. “Not the way you love me.”

“I know,” Oikawa sighed, but his tone didn’t change. “That doesn’t change anything for me.”

“It should,” Iwaizumi changed spots with Oikawa, beginning the process of rinsing him off.

“Maybe,” Oikawa laughed. “Probably. But I can’t help it. I stopped trying to a long time ago, you know.”

Iwaizumi pinched him on the thigh, laughing at his yelp, “Are you saying you’ve only been friends with me so maybe one day I’d fuck you?”

“Of course not!” Oikawa scoffed, glaring back at him the best he could with closed eyes, apparently offended at the notion. “I’d stay with you in whatever way I could.”

Iwaizumi hummed again as he finished rinsing him off. Oikawa rubbed his eyes before beginning the scrubbing process on Iwaizumi before he spoke again.

“But who am I to say it isn’t an amazing perk?”

Iwaizumi snorted as Oikawa massaged into his scalp, goosebumps running down his skin at the intimate touch. They didn’t speak again until they got out.

Oikawa lent Iwaizumi some clothes that were much too long on him, but that didn’t stop the setter from gushing over the sight. It was a gesture Iwaizumi really could’ve gone without. He didn’t mind so much after Oikawa handed him a bottle of wine, though.

They settled on the living room floor and Oikawa started blasting terrible, sappy pop music, but the further into his bottle he got, the less Iwaizumi minded.

Hinata laid in his bed, swimming in Kageyama’s sweater. He tossed a volleyball over his head with his headphones in. He was ignoring Kageyama’s texts in favor of being alone. Or he would’ve been if the guy ever took it upon himself to text first, but he wasn’t much one for unnecessary communication.

He was feeling like shit, but he didn’t really feel  _ bad.  _ He knew he was just feeling the residual effects of his ‘soulmate’s’ emotions. It didn’t matter  _ how  _ Hinata felt. If his soulmate— Iwaizumi Hajime, apparently— was feeling strongly one way or the other, Hinata had to feel it, too.

The whole soulmate mess started for him before he could even remember. He never had to live without color. He always heard the singing in his head, but it was more than that. It wasn’t just him when he sang. It was any music. He learned to live with the constant soundtrack in his head. He never thought anything of it, but once he brought it up in casual conversation with his parents, they wrote it off as a four year old’s active imagination. When he could explain it better at nine years old, they became worried it was schizophrenia. They spent years in and out of doctor offices before finally travelling all the way to the United States to meet with a  _ ‘Soulmate Guru’.  _

Those were people who claimed to astral project and meet the creator of all of the universe. In other words, liars and bullshitters.

He had to do a whole mess of things there, drink a bunch of different, disgusting teas, wines, and sakes. He had to be  _ brutally  _ honest about everything he felt, thought, heard and saw while in the judgemental company of his parents. He even had to do sensory deprivation and hypnosis.

At the end of it all, the  _ ‘guru’  _ told him that his soul was brand spankin’ new. He had  _ no  _ past lives at all. That’s where his ‘enthusiasm’ and ‘zest for life’ came from. She told him his soul was bound to attach to an old one right away, to seek guidance, love and acceptance and Hinata… Well, Hinata hated the very notion. 

She told him how the soul he seemed to attach to was  _ very, very  _ old and apparently had no real match. She suggested, but didn’t know for sure— even though Hinata was convinced she didn’t know  _ anything  _ for sure— that his soul was crafted especially for the one he connected to. She told him and his parents that his connection was so strong because he didn’t have all those past lives and experiences muddling it up for him. She suggested that  _ all  _ connections used to be so pure but after so many cycles through life, things got complicated, leaving them with the limited amount of information they had in the present day.

He was also convinced that everyone else’s souls, much older than his, could sense his youngness at the very base level. Regardless of how old he actually was, everyone tended to baby him all the time. Despite how many honest to god  _ experiences  _ he had, everyone treated him like a virgin to the entire world. He was treated like a child and he  _ hated  _ it. People underestimated him constantly. Just because his soul was new didn’t mean he was stupid.

His soul was new, and he refused to spend its very first life being a bitch to the system. He wanted to set the record straight right away with his new soul— he was going to live and die for  _ true  _ love, not something that was appointed to him. If that was even what happened, anyway.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t grow accustomed and perhaps even attached to the soul— Iwaizumi— over the course of his life. He heard all of his music, getting to know him rather intimately, and he felt everything he felt if it was strong enough. He felt like he'd known him forever, because he had. He rejected him on principle, though. Admitting he actually  _ liked  _ him or wanted to  _ really  _ know him would be admitting the universe was right and he was wrong. The stars had nothing to say, okay? They were just balls of gas. Nothing more. 

So, he lied. He lied when he said he saw the colors with Kageyama. He lied when he said he didn’t really care what Iwaizumi wanted. He lied when he told his teammates he was okay every time his body tore from the inside out at the disappointment, hurt, and rejection Iwaizumi felt. He especially lied when it was abundantly clear that Iwaizumi had sex less than twelve hours after he rejected him.

The overwhelming experience of second hand shame, guilt, love, hate and pleasure were far, far too much for Hinata. It did make something clear to him, though. And that was that Iwaizumi was  _ not  _ the person for him. He always seemed so  _ sad  _ and at war with himself. Hinata just wanted to have a good time and enjoy life. Their ideals clashed so poorly together.

His music changed over to a new song, one of his favorites— _ Tonya  _ by  _ Brockhampton.  _

The music was about to take him over when his mental soundtrack started. He was still feeling pretty angry, sad and generally grossed out at the hands of Iwaizumi’s emotions, but then it got worse when the warm, fuzzy feeling of a wine drunk started taking him. He’d been drunk that way many times before, the first time when he was thirteen, but it was only ever physical. It never messed with him mentally, so there was at least that.

He sighed and took out his headphones. He stared at the ball in his hands as he listened to the  _ bad, bad _ pop music Iwaizumi listened to.

Then, he heard something he hadn’t heard in a couple years. He played the piano. Iwaizumi used to feel utterly  _ hopeless  _ all of the time ever since Hinata ‘knew’ him. It stopped being so constant around the time Hinata was four, and he became a much happier kid. He heard a lot of piano from then until he was about ten. Then, the hopelessness seemed to mostly go away. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened to Iwaizumi during those times, but as he was experiencing it, he was happy for both of them when the problems seemed to go away. But then, when he was ten, the piano became a lot more sparse.

He really liked the piano when Iwaizumi played it. It made him like the piano a lot more in general. But, Iwaizumi always felt so  _ happy  _ and at peace when he played, and those were always welcome emotions as far as Hinata was concerned.

He even took to singing along with him when he was younger, the feeling of just being happy and entirely unbothered taking over him. And just then was no different. The sense of community and belonging coursed through Hinata’s veins as he recalled the familiar melody his soulmate pounded out over the keys.

Listening to Iwaizumi sing softly, hearing the voice that accompanied him as well, as he played aptly over the keys felt very different since he could picture the guy’s face.

_ ‘When you're weary, feeling small _

_ When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all, all _

_ I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough _

_ And friends just can't be found’ _

Hinata tossed the ball over his head again, feeling warm and dizzy and happy and  _ free.  _

_ ‘When you're down and out _

_ When you're on the street _

_ When evening falls so hard _

_ I will comfort you _

_ I'll take your part, oh, when darkness comes _

_ And pain is all around’ _

He mouthed along to the lyrics he came to know so well. At some point, he even downloaded the song on his own phone as it conditioned him to feel happiness, regardless of whatever Iwaizumi was feeling at the time. He even tried singing it when he felt that hopeless feeling coming from him, but it never changed anything. The  _ ‘guru’  _ told him how the old soul was likely weary about accepting another after so long of being alone, and he came to expect he’d never actually be heard.

_ ‘Like a bridge over troubled water _

_ I will lay me down _

_ Like a bridge over troubled water _

_ I will lay me down’ _

His shock when Iwaizumi confronted him and asked him what song he was singing was unparalleled. He never thought it was a conversation he’d have to have. He’d entirely given up on being heard. It was freeing in a way, because he never had to edit himself. He didn’t have to worry about his voice or emotions being a burden on someone else. But now...

_ ‘Sail on silver girl _

_ Sail on by _

_ Your time has come to shine _

_ All your dreams are on their way’ _

Now, things were different. And if he sang...

_ ‘See how they shine _

_ Oh, if you need a friend _

_ I'm sailing right behind’ _

If he sang, Iwaizumi would hear him. They didn’t have to be together, but Hinata was no longer  _ alone.  _ And that felt… different. He slowly pushed his voice out, nothing more than a vague whisper, but it was enough to make Iwaizumi falter.

_ ‘Like a bridge over...troubled water’ _

He slowly raised his voice to match Iwaizumi. He tried expressing,  _ ‘I’ve heard this before and I’ll hear it again’,  _ but doubted that came across.

_ ‘I will ease your mind _

_ Like a bridge over troubled water’ _

He listened as Iwaizumi sang the last line, voice strong and unwavering, confusion and passion expanding through their chests.

_ ‘I will ease your mind’ _

Hinata caught the ball on the last note Iwaizumi played, then there was nothing. Hinata stared at the ceiling. His room was dark and he was alone once again. The sadness blossomed from deep within him, but for once, it wasn’t just Iwaizumi. He felt it too. He couldn’t help but feel he made a huge mistake in rejecting him, but he knew it’d be a bigger mistake to reject his own thoughts and views on the topic,  _ especially  _ if it meant betraying Kageyama.

He couldn’t stand the silence. He just wanted him to sing another song. He wanted the piano to come back. He wanted to feel happy again. So, he did something he thought he’d never be able to do. He sang so Iwaizumi could actually  _ hear. _

_ ‘Yesterday... _

_ All my troubles seemed so far away _

_ Now it looks as though they're here to stay _

_ Oh, I believe in yesterday’ _

He felt incredibly embarrassed to be singing into silence when he  _ knew  _ he was being heard. But it was another song he knew Iwaizumi to sing when he was feeling troubled growing up. It was another he came to love, too.

_ ‘Suddenly... _

_ I'm not half the man I used to be _

_ There's a shadow hanging over me _

_ Oh, yesterday came suddenly’ _

His voice faltered as he also didn’t feel an emotional reaction from the guy. He was about to give up when he heard his hesitant voice swirl around in his head.

_ ‘Why she had to go, I don't know _

_ She wouldn't say’ _

Hinata couldn’t help but smile. It was a sad smile, though. Many years too late on the upswing. Too many thought processes behind. Tears swelled up in his eyes, and he wondered briefly if Iwaizumi could feel him, too.

_ ‘I said something wrong _

_ Now I long for yesterday _

_ Yesterday... _

_ Love was such an easy game to play _

_ Now I need a place to hide away _

_ Oh, I believe in yesterday _

_ Why she had to go, I don't know _

_ She wouldn't say _

_ I said something wrong _

_ Now I long for yesterday _

_ Yesterday... _

_ Love was such an easy game to play _

_ Now I need a place to hide away _

_ Oh, I believe in yesterday’ _

Hinata closed his eyes against his tears as their voices died out together. He wished things were different. He felt so trapped. He wished…

His mother came into his room and leaned in the doorway, “Shōyō? Were you singing?”

“Uh,” he turned his head away to hide his tears, hoping they didn’t show in his voice, “Yeah.”

“I haven’t heard you sing that song in a while,” she said slowly. “Are they playing the piano?”

“Yeah, mom.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“About that…”

Hinata’s body filled with dread, knowing already it was going to be about—

“Kageyama. I don’t think that’s a very good idea, honey.”

“Yeah, you’re not exactly subtle about it.”

“Maybe not,” he could hear her frown. “Your father and I decided you can’t see him anymore.”

_ “What?”  _ Hinata shouted as he sat up, ignoring the glowing happiness that came from the part of himself that wasn’t  _ him.  _

“It isn’t fair to him. You’re preventing him from meeting his  _ real  _ soulmate, wasting his time, and… you  _ have  _ a soulmate. How would that make him feel if he knew? If he knew you heard them sing? That you  _ felt  _ their emotions? We just think that if you cared about Tobio, you’d let him go.”

Hinata stared at her before falling heavily back onto his bed, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He never considered that aspect of things. There was so much he still didn’t understand. What was he saying about feeling trapped? He had two options, give into fate and be with Iwaizumi, or spend an eternity alone.

It was a losing battle and there was no point. His mother said something he didn’t hear, and then she closed his door and walked away. The weight in his chest directly contradicted how Iwaizumi was feeling. Lighthearted and free. He loathed it.

He put his headphones back in and restarted his song. He felt the lyrics heavily, doing his best to bite back his voice, a move he was still very unused to. By the time the tears fell down his face again, he gave in.

_ ‘And maybe it means nothing _

_ But I have to say I think about you often _

_ And if you want no part with me _

_ I'll walk away, I know that I have wronged you’ _

The sobs wracked at him at the point, and he knew they’d be clear in his voice. But he was done considering Iwaizumi at that point. It wasn’t like the guy ever considered him.

_ ‘I took a plane to somewhere that I've never been _

_ Too many times without my sister and my brother _

_ Dad or mother by my side but they're in spirit _

_ I always hear it, I know they feel it _

_ My mom will always have these dreams that used to keep her up at night _

_ I smoke to keep them all away and make use of the time _

_ I'm void of feelin' _

_ The reasons I'm so out of touch, now start revealin'’ _

His gurgled words seemed to touch Iwaizumi, because his despair only doubled. The tears flowed harder as he pictured both Iwaizumi’s face and Kageyama’s. He  _ really  _ liked Kageyama and he hated the world he lived in. The world where they couldn’t plausibly be together.

_ ‘But I'm not ashamed, I'm not afraid of who I am _

_ Or how I trust my mental, yeah, it's not perfect _

_ But I guess that's just the shit I'm into _

_ I fantasize about a time when everything was simple _

_ My shelter sheltered me from things I needed to commit to’ _

He sat up and threw his ball on the floor, the music entirely taken over him. The anger, frustration, despair and fear gripped him tightly. They were emotions he was unfortunately familiar with due to his unwelcome and unappreciated connection to Iwaizumi.

_ ‘The way it stands to me _

_ A victim of Stockholm in my friendships and family’ _

The song was far from over but the last line hit him too hard. He seemed to shatter. Or maybe it was Iwaizumi who shattered. He couldn’t tell anymore. He curled in on himself and allowed himself to break. He didn’t understand why someone would  _ create  _ his soul, as that batshit crazy lady told him, just to hurt him like that. Whatever it was that brought him there… Whoever, whatever, whyever, Hinata  _ hated  _ it. He hated everything about it. He just wanted it to end. But he knew…

If the music ever stopped in his head, if he was ever left to only feel his own emotions, the loneliness would kill him. He wondered what it would be like to live in a world where his mind, body, and soul belonged solely to himself. A world where anyone was free to choose who they were with, right or wrong. A world where music was just music and it could be as personal of an experience as you wanted. He longed for it, but he knew it was impossible. That was the kind of thing you could only read about.


End file.
